Belore: Remembrance
by Kintaraheart
Summary: Jarimy, an experienced hunter/ex-ranger and veteran of the Horde has lost everything in his life that has ever held meaning. Now a depressed alcoholic, he lives alone in Orgrimmar and to others, his life is a mystery. However, one day while talking with his favorite bartender, he tells her everything of life he lost.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone. This is the first chapter for my newest story.**

**It's the story of Jarimydyan Sunstrider, though he goes by his shortened name Jarimy, an experienced hunter/ex-ranger and veteran of the horde who, after losing everything important to him, has become an alcoholic and lives in Orgrimmar. One day, however, while talking with his favorite bartender, he tells her everything of the life he had before. He is the secret son of Kael'thas Sunstrider. None of Quel'thalas accept for family and family friends knew of his existence.**

**Sorry, this description is sucky. I don't want to let on too much or ruin the story for people.**

The busy streets of Orgrimmar seemed like nothing but emptiness to Jarimy as he milled his way through the crowds. To him, the whole world was empty now. He'd lost everything that was ever worth fighting for, and when he'd finally had his vengeance on those who had taken those precious things away from him, all the fire in his heart had been replaced by a bitter nothingness. Now he just wandered, dazed and confused most of the time, with no purpose or sense of belonging.

He shoved past an orc who growled bitterly at him and sauntered into the inn. He spotted his favorite bar tender, Vykra, a war veteran like him, who had put down her blades and settled down in Orgrimmar once and for all after fighting in Outland. "Jarimy." She said and gave him a welcome smile. "What can I get you this morning?"

"Just what I always get." She nodded and filled a mug with ale. "Thank you." He muttered and rubbed his eyes tiredly, vacantly rubbing the scar that went down from his forehead to his cheek over his right eye. Vykra frowned at him. "You seem especially down today, anything I can help you with?" The elf shook his head. "Nothing's changed." He said. "It's just as dark as always. No more, no more less." Vykra placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I feel you." She said. "After the war I lost myself completely. Most of my friends had died in Outland, and my parents had died while I was away. I came back to Azeroth alone and depressed. And like you, I spent most of my days in this very inn." She laughed bitterly. "It's ironic really." Jarimy gave a weak smile. It was the most he could manage. And if it had been anyone else speaking with him right now, he wouldn't have bothered. "But look at me now." She said. "I have a family now, a husband and two children and a home."

Jarimy sniffed. "I had that once, a home, a life, a family." He said, a faint, sad smile on his lips. Vykra stared at him in disbelief. "You?" She asked, shocked. Jarimy nodded. "Back long ago I did. I'm old than I look." He stared at the golden ale in his cup. It was the color of the golden world from which he came, for Quel'Thalas was indeed once a shining, gold land…

Jay, unlike most of his people, enjoyed the rain. It felt cool and comfortable against his ever burning skin as he worked, tossing the heavy crates of supplies and food into a wooden cart. However, he couldn't stay out in it too long, the food would spoil and the wood of the crates would rot. He bent low, picking up the last crate and throwing it into the cart with a huff. He then hurried down the road as fast as one can go while pulling a heavy cart behind them. He ran down the hill before him, haphazardly turning a sharp corner and almost slamming into a light post. Two guards passed him and gave him friendly nods. "Morning Jay." One called. "Morning!" He called back before speeding down the road.

Finally he found himself at Silvermoon's gates. Panting, he slowed to a stop and began then unloading the cart. He placed the many crates into nets and slung them over his shoulder. He lugged them into the city and dropped them at the feet of a group of expectant guards. "You're nearly late." The oldest of them said, his brow quirked in irritation. "My apologies," Jay said politely. "But give me some credit. These things are heavy." He tossed one into the guard's arms without warning. The man nearly lost his balance and Jarimy had to stifle a laugh.

"See you later." He said, giving them a sarcastic smile and walked away, smirking. He wove his way through the city quickly, wanting to wash away the sweat that the rain couldn't. It wasn't long before he found the small apartment his uncle Valoreth was renting for him. He pulled out a wash tub and filled it with cold water. Being only fifteen and nearly seven feet tall, not normal for his race, he was much too small for it, but he dealt with it the best he could. He shrugged off his dirty, working pants, they'd gone from a medium brown to nearly black in the last few months, and his linen shirt that was now stained heavily from sweat and dirt and threw them aside. He then climbed into the tub, the chill of the water sending shivers through him before his body relaxed into the comfortable coolness. He let out a deep sigh and grabbed a small metal bucket from beside him. He filled it with water and dumped it on his thick mane of, long, incredibly blond hair. It was nearly down to his butt now and he kept it up in a pony tail, only the bangs hanging loose.

After that he soaked for a while, settling comfortably into the water which was now luke warm from his body heat. He thought about his life so far, or at least what he could remember of it. For the past five years, he'd been living with his Uncle Valoreth, Aunt Nirastra, and his two cousins Sorien and Thorien. And while they'd been taking extremely good care of him, making his welcome, feeding him, giving him clothes and even his own apartment, Jay couldn't help but feel he was a bit of an outcast. He had no memory of his life before five years ago and he could only take his uncle's word for it. According to Valoreth, his parents had died, like many of his kin, when the undead Scourge had ravaged Quel'Thalas. And apparently he'd suffered a terrible blow to the head and now suffered from permanent amnesia. He swallowed down the lump he found in his throat at the word permanent. He'd never remember his life, it meant. He would never discover who he really was. He shoved away the thoughts, his mood no dampened, like the land was by the rain.

Slowly, he rose from the tub and grabbed a cloth towel. As he dried of he searched his small wardrobe for proper clothing to wear. There was supposed to be a party at Valoreth's this evening and Jay was expected to show, much to the young elf's dismay. As much as he loved his Uncle and remaining family, he did not appreciate the unwanted attention he received from many of the girl's his age. They would either swarm him like moths to flame or sit in groups and whisper among themselves and laugh as they pointed at him and blushed. But Jay was not interested in any of them. They were as stuffy and stuck up as their parent's, even if they were polite and nice. He was searching for someone with soul, a spirit as wild as his. And as far as he was concerned, these girls had none, or if they did, they hid it.

Finally he found a pair of black pants and a red shirt embroidered with gold thread around the shoulders and chest. He shifted into the uncomfortably tight clothing and picked up his crimson hunting cloak. Archery and hunting were the only things that came naturally to him and he embraced them with a passion. He had a true gift when it came to handling a bow, something he'd always had, according to Valoreth.

He tied his still wet hair back into a pony tail, letting his bangs fall in his face as always. He'd long since given up on trying to make himself appear ugly so that the girls would leave him be. It seemed that it made no difference whether he had dirt smeared on his face and smelled like a pig or if he was dressed in fine clothing and looked like a prince. They chased him all the same. But this didn't mean he was going to pretty himself up. Not by a long shot. He snickered at the thought. There was only one thing left for him to put on now. It was the last remnant he had left of his parents, his mother's pendant. It was a beautiful, smooth, blue stone that was set into silver and had a silver chain to match. It was absolutely stunning, making his hair and face stand out even more, mush to his dislike. But he forced himself to wear it anyways. It was his mother's, and it was the last thing he had left of her.

Three hours later he sat on a white velvet couch in his uncle's home, surround by girls who all chattered away in his ear at the same time. He stared off at the rug, nodding occasionally when one of the girls would ask him something and trying his best to be polite. Finally he could no longer take it. "I'm going to go see what I can do to help." He said giving the girls a gentle smile before hurrying away to join his aunt in the kitchen. "Anything I can do?" He asked Nirastra who stood busily preparing a plate full of food for the guests. "Ah, Jay." She said, not looking up from her task. "Could you bring this to the buffet table in the front room?" She asked and handed him a plate. "Yes, of course." He said happily and took the plate to the table, trying to be evasive and avoid the girls as best as possible. He ducked behind someone as well as he could with his seven foot form, turned to run back into the kitchen, and slammed into his uncle.

"Uncle!" He said, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "Uh. Sorry." He gave the white haired man a sheepish smile. Valoreth smirked at him and nodded. "It's alright." He said. "Ironic, actually. I was looking for you. I thought maybe you wouldn't show."

"I wouldn't dare skip!" Jay exclaimed, holding up his hands in mock innocence. His uncle smiled, raising an eyebrow at his nephew. "Right…." He said sarcastically. Valoreth was a tall man, not quite as tall as Jay, but big for a Blood elf. He had a muscled build from his training as a paladin and deeply tanned skin that contrasted wonderfully with his silver-white hair. He'd once had light, sky blue eyes, but now fell magic tainted them the same glowing green that the others of race shared. But now as Jay looked at him, he noticed something was different about his uncle. He frowned, puzzled as he looked the man over until he realized that the he was dressed full in gold and white armor.

"Uncle, why are you in your armor?" Valoreth shook his head. "Weren't you listening at all when I told you about the party?" Jay shrugged. "I heard the word party and blocked the rest out." Valoreth groaned. "This is to celebrate Thorien's initiation as a paladin. And YOU were supposed to dress in armor since you're part of our family." Jay flinched. "I'm sorry." He said and hung his head in despair. He then turned away and returned to the couch where he'd been sitting before.

He thought about Valoreth's words. _Part of our family._ He sighed, he was anything but part of their family. He looked nothing like them, he wasn't even related to them. And he definitely didn't fit in with this society one bit. Valoreth had told Jay that his family had been nobles too, but Jay could hardly believe that he had an ounce of aristocratic blood in him. He was so rough and… Dirty compared to them. Even his twin, troublemaking, cousins seemed to fit in more than Jay did. He sighed again, laid back into the softness of the sofa, and observed the scene around him.

Even despite how much Quel'Thalas had been ravaged, Valoreth still had enough wealth and access to supplies to run these parties frequently. But he didn't do it just for the sake of luxury, he threw them for the remaining people of Eversong and Silvermoon. He threw them for the sake of these people's sanity, much as Lord Saltheril did, however Jay questioned the man's intentions for doing so. It was a good thing that Valoreth threw these parties, Jay thought as he watched the guests laugh and smile together. It was a beautiful thing to see so many broken souls happy.

"Jay!" Thorien shouted as he and Sorien dropped down next to him on the couch. "It's so good to see you!" He said and gave a happy laugh. Thorien and Sorien were polar opposites in looks, despite being twins, but where they lacked of similarities in looks, they made up for in personality for they were both uncontrollably rambunctious. Even after the war had struck, they'd had held their spirits high.

Thorien was tall and tan with jet black hair and narrow, now green, but once blue, eyes. He was incredibly skilled with a sword and was also incredibly stubborn, never given up. Sorien on the other hand, was slightly smaller than Thorien with pale, pale skin, silvery hair, and wide eyes that had once been so dark they were nearly black, an odd thing among elves. Where Thorien was powerful with blades and paladin's magic, Sorien was powerful in the ways of magic, even for just a mage in training.

"Yes, it seems like it has been forever since the last we saw you!" Sorien exclaimed. Jay nodded. "I know." He said, his spirits perking up now. The twins always had hat effect on people, it was the only reason they got away with what they did. "Thorien, congratulations on your paladin's initiation." He said. He gave his cousin a slap on the back. "It's so exciting!" The young elf exclaimed. "But it was also incredibly difficult. But I handled it just fine as always."

Sorien laughed. "'As always'?" He laughed again. "As IF!" He shouted and reached across Jay to push his brother. "Hey!" Thorien shouted and pounced on his twin. The two tumbled to the floor. "You're not any better!" He had now pinned Sorien to the floor with sheer strength, but his brother was crafty and gave Thorien a zap of Arcane magic. The bigger elf jumped and suddenly found himself with his face smashed to the floor. "Do you give?" Sorien asked mockingly. "Never!" Thorien shouted. He reached behind himself and grabbed Sorien by the collar and slammed him down. He sat right down onto his brother's back and crossed his arms defiantly. "Now take it back." He demanded, smirking. "Alright I give! I take it back." Sorien wheezed from beneath the heavy elf. The pair separated and Thorien gave his brother a hand up.

They turned to see a room full of people staring… And their father standing over them sternly. "You done being children?" He asked, clearly not happy. "Uh, yes father." Thorien answered as they bowed their heads in shame. "Good." Valoreth said. "Now, you can go and help in the kitchen until the feast in prepared." With that he turned and went back to the party.

"Well." Sorien said in an irritated sigh. "We'd better go then." He shoved his brother forward from behind who returned the blow by stepping on his foot. "See you, Jay." They both called and continued to bicker amongst themselves as they walked.

Jay couldn't help but smile a little at the hilarious situation, but he was beginning to feel a little stuffy. At the girls weren't swarming him. He stood from the couch and stretched, he needed some air. Maybe a walk would be wise. He headed for the door.

The sun was starting to set, illuminating the woods in gold and pink light, Jay stared at the world around him in awe. It was so incredibly beautiful. He continued to stare as he walked off among the huge white oaks that towered over even his uncle's huge home. He found a nice root to sit on that was slightly flat in a spot and made a perfect seat. And to add to the spectacularness of it, he could see the sea between to hills, the sun setting along a calm horizon. He breathed deep, calming his mind and settled into the smooth bark of the tree. Somehow, it was more comfortable to him than even the velvet couch.

He took of his boots and let his bare feet rest against the soft grass and moss. He stared up at the canopy of intricately colored leaves overhead and thought of the very first day he woke up after being in the coma. No one had been home, so he'd gone outside and looked at his surroundings. He'd been in awe of it all, even when he nothing of who he was, where he was, how he'd gotten there, and what had happened to him. Even then, the beauty of the forest, the beauty of nature, had been able to calm him. Jay smiled at the memory, though it was a little bittersweet.

Suddenly, he felt a strange tugging sensation in him, not quite panic, but close. He frowned and straightened up. It was the loss of the Sunwell and the arcane, the Hunger, that was bothering him. Even with the fell magic in his blood, he sometimes still felt pangs of need for it. His people had been addicted to that magic for thousands of years, it flowed in his blood, and from the start, from his very birth, he'd been drawing from the well. Valoreth had told him it was normal to feel it, even when most of the others didn't. He said that it was simply because in his life, he'd been closer to the well. Not physically closer, but he'd drawn from it more, been more… Involved with it.

He grumbled as the irritation became greater and he stood, eager to distract himself. He could go back into the house to the party, but it would just bother him more there. He decided against it and turned towards the sea. He walked to the edge of the steep hill that lead down to smaller hill with fewer trees that then lead to the sea. An idea hit him. He stepped back a few paces and with his head straight and his muscles yearning, he ran straight for the edge and jumped off.

The wind poured over him, enveloping him in refreshing freeness. He landed lightly on the top of the next hill and ran down the side as fast as he could, jumped off a rocky part and grabbed the branch of a younger and smaller oak. He swung himself up in the branches and stepped onto another, and another, another until he'd balanced his way across through the tree and then ran along a thicker branch before getting to the end of it and dropping off. He sprinted up another hill and ran down it too. This time he hit the sand on the other side and he haphazardly slide his way down a sand dune, and flopped down onto the hot sand, hair, clothes, sweat, and all.

He started to laugh, hysterically, and stood up, trying to regain his composure, though it was unneeded here. He'd always loved the wilderness, it never judged him. Here, away from others, he could be free to do as he wished. No one would bother him, or order him around, or scorn him for not being a proper young noble. He took off his cloak and brushed it and himself off. He climbed back up the sand down to another tree and hung it on a tree. Then he sat in the dune grass and watched the sea and the sun.

After a while, Jay stood and stretched, his back cracking loudly. He went and retrieved his cloak to head back, but stopped. There, under the young tree, lay a huge, white wolf. And it was staring. At him.

Jay stepped back a bit, and when he did so, the animal stood and took a step towards him. "Uh…" He wasn't sure what to do besides take another step back. He did, finding himself dangerously close to the sand dunes edge. It took yet another step towards him, and another. Jay found himself in a dilemma, it was either fall of a sand cliff and try not to get caught by the tide while running away from a massive wolf, or face the beast himself. He'd always been good with animals, but this was a little extreme compared to a simple cat or dog, or even a Dragonhawk or lynx. He'd never encountered a wolf, at least from his current memories. But the beast was showing no sign of attacking, perhaps curiosity, but not anger or agitation of any sort.

It came so close, he could nearly touch it. And then a strange urge hit him. Something deep within him tugged at him, longing for him to touch the ghostly beast before him. The intensity of himself faded the reality around him and locked him in place. It was just he and the wolf. And the wolf was coming even closer. _Go ahead, touch him. He won't hurt you._ An unknown, yet strangely familiar voice called from somewhere. His hand seemed to be lifting on its own. A childlike thrill filled him head to toe when his hand came in contact with the soft fur on the wolf's muzzle. He grinned and the wolf licked his hand happily. Jay reached up to pet the wolf on the forehead. But he was not greeted by soft fur. Instead he was zapped by an unseen force of electricity and held in place as it flowed through him. He was thrown from his strange trance back into reality. "Ah!" He cried out, his hand throbbing. The he saw it, there was a blue mark forming on the wolf's forehead, glowing softly until it was fully engraved into place, like a birth mark, or a natural discoloration in the fur. It was a blue lightning bolt.

"My god…" The young elf whispered. And then suddenly, he was gasping for air, the reality fading once again. But the wolf was still there, just like before, only now, they were somewhere else. The world had reformed itself into a new place. Or rather… An old place.

There was a house, hidden deep within the woods of Quel'Thalas. He knew this place so well, he loved it here. He'd been born here even, and he never intended to leave it. "Hooray, hooray!" He was shouting as he ran on the cool stone floor in only a pair of linen pants. He bounded for a pile of pillows by the bookcase and dove into it, laughing. "Today is my birthday!" He shouted. "Today I am five! And today I get to go to Silvermoon!" A sleek, elegant woman with bright red hair and a gentle smile entered the room, chuckling. "Yes you do, my son." She said. "That is, if your father would hurry up." She turned, her arms crossed, an amused smile on her lips.

"Oh, Anoraleen, give me some credit." A tall, golden haired man exclaimed playfully as he entered the room. He walked to the young boy and picked him up. "Good morning, Jarimy." He said. "Happy Birthday, my son. Are you ready to go into Silvermoon?" Jarimy hugged his father happily. "Yes, yes, father! Can we go now?" The tall elf smiled. "So eager." He put the boy down and ruffled his hair. "But we can't go with you half dressed. Anoraleen, I'll fetch him some clothing. Would you pack some food for the day?"

Anoraleen smiled and nodded. "I'd be glad to. But YOU should make sure that you're ready too, Kael. We cannot risk someone figuring out who you are. I would suggest armor or leather, something mages don't wear. Perhaps you should put your hair up as well." Kael'thas nodded. "Don't worry, love, I've already got everything set."

He returned a moment later, completely changed. "Wow!" Jarimy exclaimed as he watched his father come down the steps. He had changed from wearing only his crimson robes to a pair of well made cotton pants that were a cream color that reminded the young boy of the bark of the oak trees outside and a shirt to match, with a crimson vest that looked much like his robes, and a pair of hard leather boots dyed crimson as well a deep, burgundy cloak over his shoulders. But the most shocking change was his hair. It was pulled up of his shoulders, only a few strands hanging down over them besides his long, grown out bangs hanging down to frame his face. "You like it?" He asked and Jarimy nodded excitedly. "You look so different!" He exclaimed.

Kael'thas put a small bundle of clothes down next to Jarimy. "Do you need any help with the ties on your shirt and boots?" He asked the young boy who shook his head furiously. "Uh-uh. I'm five now, I can do it myself." Kael'thas smirked to himself. "If you insist." The boy only needed help once.

They had departed after that, traveling by Kael's own white Hawkstrider and Anoraleen's dragonhawk. "Can we go fast?" Jarimy asked, twisting around to look at his father as they made it to the road. Kael thought it over. "I suppose since it's your birthday." He nudged the Hawkstrider forward and with a squeal of happy laughter from Jarimy, they were off.

The image twisted before Jay's eyes, shifting into a familiar sight. The gleaming spires of Silvermoon shone overhead. But they were even more spectacular in his vision, for darkness and deception had not yet been wrought upon them all.

"So, have you been enjoying Silvermoon?" Kael'thas asked Jarimy as they walked through the Court of the Sun and sat down on the stone ledge of the fountain. Jarimy nodded and yawned. The sun was setting and the city was all aglow, making the already tired boy, even drowsier. "I love it here." He said and popped another candy in his mouth. "It's amazing." Kael'thas nodded. "Indeed it is. And someday, it will all be yours." Jarimy stared up at him in wonder. "Really?" He asked. Kael nodded.

Suddenly, someone sat down besides the two of them. "Uncle Valoreth!" Jarimy cried and threw himself into the other elf's arms. "It's good to see you Kael. My, your son is getting so big. Happy Birthday Jarimy, do you like Silvermoon?" The five year old nodded and gave the man another hug. "Good! Are you ready for the party tomorrow?" Jarimy looked up at them, puzzled. Kael nudged his friend. "It was supposed to be a surprise. He didn't know yet." He said with a sigh. "But it's alright. At least now he has something to look forward to."

"So, where are we on this Birthday adventure?" Valoreth asked, hoping he wasn't too late. "Well," Kael said. "We were planning on heading up to see my father. He's been quite cross with me for not bringing little Jarimy to see him more often. I promised I'd bring him today, and besides, Jarimy's excited to see him." Valoreth nodded. "He is the boy's grandfather, King or not, and he is YOUR father."

Kael'thas sighed tiredly and absently swished a hand around in the fountain's water. "It seems as though I've never the time for anything anymore. Between here, and Dalaran, and Lordaeron, and everywhere else, I was barely able to even squeeze in time for my own son and wife."

Valoreth placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Kael'thas, as your friend, it's my job to advise you and help you with the troubles you go through. I know you have duties here and in Dalaran, and I know that you are trying to help with the situation in Lordaeron for the sake of Jania as best as you can. But Kael, you can't take this much responsibility on your shoulders. You have a life, family and friends, a child now, a wife. And it's YOUR responsibility to take care of those people who mean something to you. Anestarian is your father, and he deserves your attention, strict or not. He's just as busy as you are, even if he is trying to keep our people out of the business in the south. And he works hard, he deserves a visit from his only son every once in a while."

Kael'thas nodded. "I know. And believe me, I feel terrible about it all. And the situation with Jania is not helping family matters at all."

Valoreth raised an eyebrow at him. "Kael'thas… You haven't been off with-"

"No! No. Dear, no." Kael'thas stuttered. "I'd never betray Anoraleen, I love her with all of my heart. But while I might not have feelings like that for her anymore, she is still a friend, and I will not sit idle while Arthas breaks her heart and destroys everything."

Valoreth nodded. "I suppose you're right."

Jarimy tugged on his father's shirt sleeve. "Who are those people you were talking about?" He asked, wonder coloring his face. He was ever the curious child. Kael'thas pursed his lips, looking haggard. "Just some people I know from my work in Dalaran and the south." He said. Jarimy looked at his father knowingly. Despite being young, he understood when others were not well, inside or out.

Valoreth and Kael'thas talked for a few moments longer, but then stood suddenly, causing Jarimy to nearly fall into the fountain. "Let's go get your mother and then we're all going to Grandfather's, alright?" Kael'thas said, picking up Jarimy and putting him on the Hawkstrider's back. They walked through the now quiet streets of the shining city, the two men talking in hushed voices as they walked along behind Jarimy. Finally they came to the inn in Murder Row where Anoraleen sat inside, talking hurriedly to one of her old friends as well. They laughed and talked in excited tones that matched the business inside the inn. Jarimy ran through the room, dodging people's legs and the occasional scattered chair. "Mama!" Jarimy said happily and he plowed into his mother's arms.

Anoraleen scooped up the boy and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Well, hello there!" She said happily and stood up. She excused herself and carried her son to the door where Kael and Valoreth stood waiting. "Where are we going now? To your father's finally?"

Yet again the image twisted and Jay felt himself beginning to float into another image. What were these? How come he seemed so comfortable in these places? How come he KNEW them? Could these be his memories? But his name, it was not even the same as his own now. Was this him? Was his father… his father was Kael'thas?

This time he found himself sitting in a dimly lit room with a white haired man and the rest of his family. The elder white haired elf was scolding Kael'thas. "It's about time you've brought my grandson to see me." He huffed in displeasure. "Here, I am your own father and you hardly take the time to come see me, let alone your own wife and child."

Kael'thas held up a hand, clearly angered. "Enough please! I've already heard it from the rest of them. At least I came, didn't I? I'm sorry father, I've been working so hard with all that has been happening." He shook his head. "I've been up to my neck with work and advanced studies."

Anestarian sighed. "I know, Kael, I know. It just upsets me. With all that has been happening in the south, it worries me that you involve yourself so much in it." Kael'thas nodded solemnly.

"But you're right, enough of that for now, this Jarimy's day." He stood up and he and Kael'thas left the room. The returned a moment later. "Come on now, you've nothing to fear." Anestarian was saying to something in the shadow. A small, furry figure tumbled into the room. It was a little, white wolf that was so fluffy it looked more like a floating dandelion fluff than a wolf. Jarimy jumped up and ran to it immediately. The wolf pup eyed him for a moment before jumping on the boy and sniffing him thoroughly. Jarimy laughed and sat up.

"He's mine?" He asked excitedly. Both Kael and Anestarian nodded. "It is."

Jarimy played with the puppy for seemingly hours after that while the adults talked and drank. It was the happiest he'd ever been, to have a playmate after being alone so long. "I will name you Frostbite." He said to the wolf. "And you shall be my brother."

On and on the visions went, images of himself growing older and even visions from his own eyes as well. Memories of practicing with a boy, getting better and better, and feeling happier each time he hit the mark dead on, of his passion for being a hunter, and for archery, and for all of the adventurous days he spent with Frostbite as the wandered the woods of Quel'Thalas. Then came the day his father left for the last time before the invasion. "I promise, I will not be gone long." He was saying to Jarimy and Anoraleen. "But Dalaran demands my immediate attention, as a member of the Kirin'Tor." Kael'Thas told them. And then he was gone.

More visions flowed before Jay's eyes. Wait, no… He was not Jay, he was Jarimy. He was Jarimydyan Sunstrider, the lost and secret son of Kael'thas Sunstrider, Prince of Quel'Thalas. Suddenly, it him, he remembered. He remembered everything, from his days frolicking in the sunlight woods as a toddler and small child, to the day he picked up a bow and shot for the first time, to the day he went to Silvermoon for the first time, to the very first time he tried his hand at magic, he remembered everything. His mind stopped dead after that when he remembered what he did after that. The day that ruined his life, the day he lost everything, including his memory, he remembered that too.

The day Quel'Thalas fell.


	2. Chapter 2

Silvermoon was burning.

The scent of blood mixed with the smoke in the air. All around him, the world crumbled, people and buildings alike. His ankle hurt from how he'd landed when they'd all jumped from the balcony over the training grounds. On his left, Frostbite ran, carrying the injured on his back. And on his right, a woman ran, her son in her arms. "Where are we to go?" She asked Jarimy as they ran down murder row.

"To the coast." Jarimy shouted over the screams and crashes. "My father's friend resides there. He has many boats and I assure you he will help you." They came to a hole in the crumbling outer wall of the shining city that was being ever dulled by blood and ash. He scrambled through his pack suddenly, handing the woman a map and motioning for the group of survivors he lead to come near. "This is a detailed map of Quel'Thalas. Upon are marked not only towns and sanctums, but also places I know personally that are hidden and scattered throughout the woods." He shoved his pack into another man's arms. "This pack has food and water, not much, but enough for at least one meal if you ration it out properly. There is also my skinning knife and two daggers and extra bandages. Take it. You will need it more than I. Now go, Frostbite will accompany you."

He turned to slip away through the growing crack in the wall, but a firm hand caught him by the shoulder. "Wait, boy!" The man with the pack shouted. "What of you, you are but a child, a skilled child yes, but nevertheless, a child. Are you not coming with us? You will die if you stay!" He exclaimed. There were murmurs of agreement in the small crowd.

Jarimy politely removed the man's hand from his shoulder and smiled. "I have a duty in this kingdom, and while I cannot tell you all that it is, I will tell you this, you need not worry of me. I am fighting for my people, our people. I am fighting for the Sunwell and for our glorious kingdom. I am fighting for ALL of you. Please do not let this be in vain." He turned and disappeared, stopping only to call to Frostbite. "Find me, brother, I will be at home with Mother."

He climbed the tallest oak he could find near him and jumped from branch to branch, tree to tree until he reached the scourge. They were gathered into an unrelenting, endless line that had now managed to slam through the gates of Silvermoon. Jarimy watched as the elven defenders fought in vain against the army of undead. One by one they fell and rose again, as one of the Scourge. "Damn you." He spat.

He needed to hurry to get to the Isle of Quel'Thalas, but if he wasn't careful, the Scourge would get there first. His mother was still trapped in their small home on the mountains that faced the island on the northern tip of Quel'thalas's mainland. His grandfather was still trapped on the island as well and Jarimy had no intention of sitting idle while his family and people died. He lunged for another branch, attempting to go OVER the line of scourge and sneak his way on the tops of the buildings in the city. Then he would take their secret path to the house.

He jumped again, and again until he was nearly over them. The next lunge was a large one, he felt slightly nervous as he watched the horde of mindless undead swarm beneath it. If he fell in, there would be no getting back out. He jumped, his legs powerful, even for a thirteen year old. He caught the branch- but only with his left hand. Now, he was dangling over the mass of bloodthirsty nightmares below. Panic began to rise in him, but he forced himself into calm. He swung his right side up and grabbed the branch with his other hand as well. He pulled himself up and scramble into the trees foliage.

He tree hopped back to the city. Worriedly, he thought of Frostbite, he hoped they'd made it to Valoreth's alright. The wolf could take the mountain paths around Silvermoon to come home after he brought the survivors to the coast, but Jarimy had needed to hurry, cutting through the city would be faster.

The screams of innocent people made him sick and he forced himself to leave them as he ran across the rooftops. "I'm so very sorry." He said to them, even though he knew they could not hear him.

Finally, he reached the back wall of the city and struggled to the top. He stood atop the wall and nearly fell off at the sight he saw before him.

The army of undead had broken all the way through Silvermoon and Jarimy could see them beyond the mountains wading and swimming their way to the Isle of Quel'Danas. They're after the Sunwell! He realized in sudden horror.

He jumped down into a tree and scrambled to the ground. His feet pounded against the rock and earth as he scaled a steep incline on the hills and mountains and he made his way to where he knew the path was. It ran west along the walls of Silvermoon until it turned off to the north suddenly and lead to their home on the cliffs above the sea.

He ran and ran and another hour passed. He glanced back to see that the undead were still in the Ocean, battling their way to Quel'Danas against a few elven ships. Fight on. Fight on and do not stop until the end. He silently thought to them as a sort of prayer. All of this land, and all of these people, depend on you. He ran on.

Only a few minutes later, he reached the house. His mother stood at the gazebo, watching the battle through a spy glass. "Mother." He panted as he reached her. The woman turned, her face covered with tears as she cried in silence."The end has come for our people. Our time is over." She said solemnly.

"Don't say such things," Jarimy said and he wiped her tears away. "There is always hope. Do you not see how those sailors fight them?" He stood before her and pointed out to the open sea and the Island that lay awaiting it's destruction. "There is always hope." He repeated.

"Oh, my son." Anoraleen said in a sigh. "You sound so much like your father now, so ambitious. But there is something in you that your father lacks. You're beyond your years, Jarimy, you seem so adult even though you are just a small, small child of an elf. You are the age of a human child, only thirteen, yet here you are, sounding as though you're a man already." She turned her gaze back to the undead and the ocean. "Such is the way of the elves." She said, sadness clouding her voice.

"Mother," Jarimy began, feeling quite horrible for bringing her such dire news. "I'm going to leave and fight them with Grandfather. They're after the Sunwell, and if they are not stopped, it WILL be as you said. I cannot let this happen. I may just be a child, but I have a duty in this world, child or not."

He sensed Anoraleen give another silent sob. She turned to her son and embraced him. "Don't go…" She whispered. "You are my son, my child, I will not be able to bear it if I lose you too …"

Jarimy looked up at her with deep cerulean eyes. "Just as I will not be able to bear it if I let this Kingdom fall unguarded." He said. He stepped back from her and bumped into a familiar, furry figure. "Frostbite, you have returned." He said and patted the wolf. "We must go." He said to Anoraleen bowed at her feet. "Thank you for everything, Mother." He said.

He summoned his magic and opened a portal. Inside the swirling air and energy was a familiar sight: The Sunwell. And standing over it, sword drawn was Anasterian. "I'm coming, Grandfather!" He yelled as jumped into the portal, Frostbite following. For Quel'Thalas! For the Sunwell. He was so afraid of what was to come."

"Jarimydyan Sunstrider!" Anasterian exclaimed as his grandson materialized before him, wolf at his side and bow in hand. "What on Azeroth do you think you are doing?" The young elf bowed his head at the elderly elf and smiled. "Defending my people." He said.

Anasterian smiled at the boy, but worry clouded the old man's face. "Jarimy, I admire your strength and determination, as well as your sense of honor and morality. You know what is right and you know what you must do for your people. But, my boy, you are just a child-"

"Grandfather please!" Jarimy pleaded. "This IS where I belong, this IS my place. My place is fighting for my people! I MUST do this!" He exclaimed. Fury, longing, fear, and strength filled his expression. He was on the verge of tears, his nerves so full of fire. He breathed deep, regaining some calm, but his emotions still lively. "THIS is where I belong." He said again.

The old elf groaned and sighed. "Alright…" He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Your father will never forgive me for this, but I will not deny you your duty and purpose. You were put on this world to watch over this Kingdom, and that is exactly what you're doing."

"Thank you, Grandfather." He said, hope now also flaring within him too. His heart filled with newfound strength. And then the world around the shook, stones crumbled and dust puffed and swirled around the chamber. Jarimy gazed into the golden waters of the Sunwell. Oh beloved Sunwell, light of Quel'Thalas, grant us strength in this fight…

The walls tore open and crashed around them. "Ready your bow, my boy!" Anasterian shouted over the new noise. Clanking metal and savage growls and hisses now filled the air around them. "Prepare to be crushed under the might of the Scourge!" A booming, chilling voice called out and echoed through their minds as the walls surrounding them continued to fall. Jarimy aimed his bow at the silhouettes of ghouls, skeletal warriors, and the many other horrors of the Scourge the were about to emerge from the dust that both shielded and blinded them.

Elven soldiers rushed to attack them but were quickly butchered by the Scourge. They closed in from all sides and Jarimy felt choked and trapped as they came nearer and nearer. "Steady." He said to Frostbite, the wolf was just as irritated. "Be ready." A strange silence fell around them as elf and undead eyed each other through the clouds of dust.

The world erupted and the fighting began. They fought on and on as the endless army fell upon them. The few remaining soldiers fought along with them hacking their way into the mindless swarm of bloodthirsty, flesh hungering fiends until the swarm stopped momentarily only to reveal armored skeletons approaching, the eyeless sockets of their skull filled with the red glow of undeath. Armor was harder to penetrate, but Jarimy's arrows were made to penetrate even the hardest of stones and his aim and accuracy was already staggering, especially for his young age. One by one he sent them back to their graves.

But then the real challenge came. Massive, patchwork, monsters: Abominations came hurling themselves at the elves. The defenders fell, ripped apart and squashed like insects within only a moment. Jarimy knew he did not have much time to spare. He summoned fire magic into him and shot flaming arrows, three at a time, into the monsters. The lit burned like kerosene.

Frostbite played his part well against them, sinking his teeth into the rotting flesh, ignoring the taste, and shredding them and tearing them apart piece by piece at their literal seams. The snarling wolf was a formidable foe.

Finally, the abominations were no more and there was yet again a small moment of rest for them. They all wiped the sweat from their faces and cleaned their blades. Jarimy collected his arrows and stretched his arms. "You're doing well." Anasterian said to the boy. Jarimy could only nod, exhausted. "But this was only a taste of what's to come." He nodded again.

"Draw from the well!" Anasterian called to the small group. They all did, eager for a reprieve from the exhaustion and encroaching weakness.

But their break did not last long.

"So you've torn apart the abominations and ghouls?" The voice from earlier boomed once again. "No matter, there's millions more just outside the plateau slaughtering the rest of your pathetic kind. I could just let them tire you to death and let them torture you and feast on your remains, I suppose. But unfortunately, I've a purpose for this Well of yours." The voice went silent and was replaced by the clop of hooves. A figure on horseback appeared through the dust.

The elves gaped at the figure they saw. An armored, formerly human, undead sat atop a huge horse. Jarimy felt himself being pulled back away from the man by Anasterian. "Arthas Menethil." Anasterian gasped and stepped around Jarimy. "By the Sunwell, what has become of you? The very sword you wield has destroyed your soul!"

"Silence, old man!" Arthas demanded and charged at Anasterian. The pair collided in a clang of blades. They fought hard almost matched in skill and power, but Anasterian was old and not so young an elf, he began to fall under the Death Knight's power. Jarimy rushed in to help, aiming for Arthas but Anasterian shook his head. "Stay back!" He ordered and all of the elves did so.

The elven king was forced to block again and again with his stave while trying to fight off the monster with his own sword, Felo'Melorn. But his stave was shattered and he was reduced to defense. My time has come. The elder elf thought. But I will not go without at least a final blow. He struck at Arthas's horse, cutting off it's front legs. The animal crumpled, whinnying in despair as it died. Arthas growled in rage, raising his cursed blade in anger. "Damn you!" He screamed. "I will destroy you!" He swung one last furious time at Anasterian and to the even king's horror, Frostmourne cut through Felo'Melorn. His very essence was being drained, his very soul was being consumed and stolen by the cursed blade. Anasterian heard the wailing of the other souls as his was added to the blade. No! He screamed. It's all over. Everything is over. He thought of his son and grandson. It is up to you now… The elven king disappeared, only his husk of a body remaining and it too fell.

"Grandfather, no!" Jarimy felt himself choke up. A tear rolled down his cheek and his body shuddered with fury and loss. "How dare you…" He snarled through clenched teeth. Arthas turned on the boy. "How dare I?" He asked mockingly. "How dare YOU!" He came at him, Frostmourne held tightly in his grip. Jarimy aimed an arrow, knowing it would be his last, but he did not aim for the man himself, but rather the sword. If he could destroy the sword… There was the ting of metal as the arrowhead shattered upon impact and Jarimy began to back away. He found himself up against the remainder of a wall. He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared to die. There was a disgusting thunk as the sword impaled flesh.

But it was not Jarimy's flesh. The young elf dared to peek at the Death Knight, confused. His confusion quickly turned to horror. "Mother!" He screamed. Anoraleen's body slipped from the sword and fell to the ground. Arthas laughed, his chilling, hollow voice filling jarimy's mind, warping it. For the first time in his entire life, the young elf felt hatred, pure, hot, molten, raw hatred. With a roar of fury, he drew from the Well once more, the Sunwell's power filled him and his own body began to glow. I hate you for what you've done. He thought. "I hate you!" He grabbed the last arrow in his quiver and aimed it at Arthas who was now kneeling over the sunwell, about to place something in the water… He fired the arrow and had Arthas not flinched in that moment, had he not shifted position, it would have hit his straight in the head, but he HAD moved and instead the arrow implanted itself in his shoulder. He growled and pulled the arrow out, hissing in pain.

Jarimy grabbed his mother and grandfather and held them close to him. "I'm so sorry." He said, tears flowing from his eyes. "I couldn't avenge you… Or save you… I couldn't save our people." Anoraleen put a hand to her son's cheek, somehow still living. "I love you my son…" She said. "Don't cry, you tried… I love you." Her eyes faded. And the Sunwell exploded.

Jarimy woke up on the grass beneath the tree, his cloak still hung on the branch and Frostbite was watching him expectantly. The wolf licked his cheek and whimpered. "It's alright brother, I'm alright." He sat up and looked at his hands. He was whole again. He was… Newfound rage flared up in him. He'd been lied to. The past five years he'd been lied to by the only people he'd been able to trust. He rushed to his feet and swung on his cloak, headed for Valoreth's house. The shock, the loss, the anger, the agony, the betrayal, it all overwhelmed him as he ran back to the house. He grabbed his boots at the tree outside and shoved them on. He was soaked it was raining now, the party was over and hours had passed, the sun had set. He marched through Valoreth's door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gosh, I have been cursed with a terrible case of writers block. I've got this story planned to the max, but how to go about the scenes and stuff is difficult. It's been a while since I posted here, this I know. But I'm doing a circus act managing my writing, so please just bear with me. Here is chapter three. I hope you like it. I know that a lot of people hate fanfics about Kael'Thas having a child and stuff. (hey, at least he wasn't paired with Sylvannas right?) but when I began this story, I was just a kid desperatly in love with the sotry of the blood elves and im sorry, but to an at the time nine year old, it was irresistable to make a story where Kael'Thas had a kid.**

Chapter 3

Valoreth, Thorien, Sorien, and Nirastra all looked up at him in surprise. "Jay? The party's over, what are you doing here?" Valoreth asked, confusion was clear on his face.

Jarimy looked up at them, fury filling him to the very brim. "Jay, is something wrong?" Valoreth asked, he was standing now, his confusion replaced by worry.

Jarimy wanted scream at the name. He clenched his teeth, his fists balled, and forced himself to speak. "My name is NOT Jay." He growled. Valoreth's eyes went as wide as the full moon and his skin paled to a similar color. "Wait!" He reached out, but Jarimy had already fled. Valoreth did not hesitate to follow.

Jarimy ran through the forest, the great white wolf at his side. "Brother…" He whispered. The wolf nudged him, persuading the elf to ride him. He did, mounting the wolf and letting the great animal carry him away. It was a feeling that was engraved into his very soul. His head hurt, but his heart hurt more. It seemed to throb inside his chest and he felt choking sobs take him. He leaned into Frostbite as they fled, the rain lashing them in coolness, but this time it offered no comfort.

"Jarimy!" Valoreth's voice called faintly from a ways behind the pair. "Jarimy please wait!" The great paladin was on his horse, plowing after the pair as fast his he could will the animal to go. He was running right along side them now. "Please wait." He shouted again. "Please, I can explain everything. Please just wait!"

Jarimy grudgingly looked at the man he'd called family for five long years. "No!" He shouted back. "Why should I wait for you? Why should I listen? Why should I trust you?" He spat. Valoreth hung his head, forlorn and guilty. He slowed his horse to a stop and turned away, refusing to watch the young elf ride away. Oh hell.

Jarimy plowed through the gates of Silvermoon, startling several guards and civilians as he went. He flew through the city and stormed into his apartment. He flung off his shirt and pants, standing in only underpants. His mind was numb and throbbing at the same time. He ran to the small pump near the mirror and filled a small bucket with water. He dumped it on his burning face and scrubbed the tears off of it. He stared at himself in the mirror and remembered his mother's pendant. His lip quivered at the thought of her. "Mother…" He whispered, the tears came again.

"All is truly lost… It's just as you said." He sobbed, remembering his mother's words to him. It's all my fault you're dead. He thought in pain. If I had not gone, if I had just sacrificed my damned honor for even just a moment… Perhaps then I would have never gone, and then you would never have needed to follow me and try to save me. And your life would not have been wasted by my foolishness. Even then, I had not been able to save myself after you sacrificed yourself for me. I wasted your gift. I'm so horribly sorry. He turned away from the mirror and walked to a wall. He leaned against it and slid to floor, grief taking him all together.

Frostbite curled up around his legs and nuzzled him softly. Jarimy looked down at the white wolf and layed down beside it. "You are all I have left, brother." He sobbed quietly and wrapped his arms around the wolf. He buried his face in the soft fur and closed his eyes, bathing in the nostalgia and deja vu it gave him. What a terrible son I am. He muttered in his thoughts before drifting away into a sea of numb horror and loss.

Present

Jarimy sighed and rubbed his eyes again. Vykra was watching him with insecurity, not sure what to say or do. "So you see," He said. "The loss began at a very young age for me. That is why I am not sure if I can return myself again. I have tried and tried, time and again. I even achieved it for a short while, but even then…" His voice trailed off and he took another drink. This was the longest it had taken him to finish a cup of ale. He was finally nearing the middle of the liquid looked darker now, but maybe it was just his imagination…

Past

For days he stayed in his apartment alone. Once, Nirastra had attempted to visit him. He allowed her entrance but refused the food she offered him. He didn't bathe, or dress, or eat. He just stayed, sitting on the pile of pillows in the corner, petting Frostbite. He was quite thankful for his friend. To have the wolf back completed the rest of his body and part of his heart, but there were many missing pieces within him and they gnawed at him more so than hunger.

Frostbite refused to leave his side, not eating either, only going out to relieve himself. The elf had no need to.

Finally one day, the sun showed through the curtain that made the door of his home. It hurt his eyes and he flinched, moving for the first time in hours. He shielded them and shifted, moving closer to the small bookshelf beside him. Something caught his gaze, it was glittering and gold. There was something behind the books… He moved them aside cautiously and took hold of something. It was a small leather bound, embroidered book. He recognized it immediately. It was his father's journal.

He opened it in a flurry, untying the straps. He opened to the middle and began to read it...

Today, I am afraid to say, marks a day of tragedy. My father, my son, my love, and my kingdom. Each and every one of them brutally slaughtered and torn to shreds at the hands of a monster and his equally monstrous army. Their souls taken by Frostmourne. I feared this day for so very long, though I never imagined it would happen this way. It seems to me that our use of magic has once again destroyed us. And now I must search for a cure to our addiction.

I felt the loss of the Sunwell from even so far away. And now here in what is left of our home, I cannot help but cry. It pains me to have to do this, I hardly have the will to be here. Everything worth caring for has left my life now, but I have a duty there, and I have a people to attend to.

Oh my son, if only you had survived. I only perhaps I had stayed behind just this one time, perhaps then we would have stood a chance. Perhaps you would still be here, and your mother too. I expected such great things from you. And I have no doubt in my mind that you died a glorious death, fighting for your people. You were always so caring, so sacrificial for all of them. You would have made the greatest, most glorious king.

I write this to you in hopes that your soul has not been taken by Frostmourne, and if it has, in hopes that when the day that wretched beast in destroyed, and his sword with him, your soul will be freed and when it is, you will hear these words I have for you.

I have been a terrible father. I never stayed as long as I should have, I always had to leave to continue my studies in Dalaran. I took you for granted, I took Quel'Thalas for granted, and all of it's inhabitants.

I do hope that you do not loathe me for never being home for you. I also hope you do not loathe my for never allowing your existence to be known. I did it for your own safety, however, I fear that it may have contributed to your death. I was truly a fool in that aspect. I caged you, though I had also been trying to do just the opposite. I didn't want you surrounded by guards or held inside the palace on Quel'Danas for eternity as I was as a child. I sought a better life for you than the one I had. I hope you can understand that. Though now, I see that there was such flaw in doing so.

From the last reported sights at the battle for the Sunwell, I was told there was a strange boy fighting alongside the King… I know it was you. You fought to the very end, you did what I failed to do. You protected our people, you fought for them. I on the other hand…

Oh my son, oh my dear Jarimydyan. Do you know what your name means? It's in a very old dialect of Thalassian, and it means Guardian. Your whole name translated means Guardian of the Sun, or Guardian of he who walks the day. You are the guardian of our people. And you have fulfilled your purpose. If you died, thinking that perhaps you had failed, you are wrong, my son. In no way did you fail. You did everything I couldn't. It is the soul reason I will not take up the title as King of our people.

I could not have asked for a better son, I could not have hoped for anything more accept for you to still walk among the living. However, given what this world has fallen to, I suppose that wishing so is quite selfish of me, for I know that unless you are trapped within Frostmourne, waiting for your freedom, you are in a better, safer place doing better, though knowing your mischief age probably not safer, things with more than I could have ever given you.

Now, by the light of the Sun, I give your soul the final farewell. And I vow to you now, that I will find a cure for our people, and I will rebuild Silvermoon and Quel'Thalas. I will find a way, in your name. I will find a way…

Farewell.

A strange weight left him then. His father's words had slightly lessened the burden that had come crashing down upon him and he felt oddly peaceful. Newfound hope blossomed in his heart, though small, it was a start if nothing else. He carefully shut the book and bound the strappings. He stood, shaky on his weak legs. He had a duty here in Quel'Thalas, his people needed him. The loss of the Sunwell had not taken that from him. He did not die with it as Kael'Thas had thought, no, he was very much alive.

He washed his face and hair, scrubbing the tears and sweat and sadness from him. He tied up his hair as always and wore his mother's pendant proud though the thought of her was as bittersweet as the mourning tea she used to brew. And today he wore his armor, for today he would take what was not only rightfully his, but what was his duty bound by blood and soul.

He left for the Court of the Sun, bow in hand, arrows in quiver, Frostbite at his side, and his father's journal hidden in his quiver and guarded by arrows.

The guards hardly questioned his when they saw him, though some may have wondered of his young age as a fighter. But he looked and moved like a champion, one that was perhaps of great importance.

Silvermoon was still quite ravaged, and nothing near rebuilt, even within the Court of the Sun. Within the Sunfury Sanctum, in was even still slightly a mess. Lor'Themar Theron was currently leading the Sin'dorei, he knew this from the brief lessons and updates on the higher classed people that Valoreth would force him to listen to. Gah, he could even hear his voice as he shoved the meaningless information down his throat. "This is a matter of importance…" As he always used to say.

He was at the top of the ramp now, and within the Sanctum stood three men, two of which he presumed to be Halduron Brightwing and Lord Theron. However the third… He had his back to the entrance, yet he seemed somehow familiar. Long white hair, quite tall, gold and white armor. He near tripped, it was Valoreth, he was speaking to the other men.

"I know it seems so unbelievable that this would happen but you must hear me out, this is a matter of great importance, one that could affect the entire future of the Sin'dorei and Quel'Thalas. We are just newly remade, the Prince only found the solution to all of this but a year ago. Why would I lie? I was his closest friend, his son was near a son to me-"

"That's quite enough." One them said sternly, looming over Valoreth despite being a good inch shorter than him. He had white blond hair about the color of Valoreth's and a thin scar going over his left eye. Jarimy could only guess that he must be Lor'Themar Theron. He slightly recalled seeing him around the Farstriders during the times he trained with them. In fact, the recognized the blond elf next to him too.

"I've heard enough. This is absurd, how can you expect me to believe this tale of yours, have you lost your head?" He continued, his voice rising in anger.

Valoreth held up his hands and shook his head. "Lord Regent, you must believe me! I am no liar or teller of tall tales. And by the Sun, I am not insane! I know the boy, I've raised him for the past five years, ever since the Invasion, he's here in Eversong and Silvermoon, and now he remembers. This puts everything at risk. He's unstable and-"

"I said, Enough!" Lor'Themar bellowed. "Enough of this nonsense, if you don't leave and put a stop to this insanity and these lies, I swear I will put an end to it my-"

Jarimy himself had heard enough, it angered him that they were arguing over his very existence. He stepped forward and strode into the Sanctum. "He's not lying." He said loudly. The other elves jumped and Valoreth turned to look at him in shock. Jarimy himself was a little shaken. Not sure what he should do, he took a deep breath and repeated himself in a calmer tone this time. "He's not lying." He said again.

"Oh, and who are you to say this?" Lor'Themar asked irritatedly. Jarimy smirked. "Well, my name is Jarimydyan Sunstrider. Though most called me Jarimy." The Regent Lord of Quel'Thalas stared at him for a moment, Halduron and Valoreth doing the same, before blinking and gritting his teeth in rage. "By the Sun! What is wrong with the both of you?" He exclaimed motioning to JArimy and Valoreth. "Guards!" He called.

Halduron said nothing but placed a hand on his friends shoulder and sighed, glaring at the Jarimy and Valoreth. Jarimy was infuriated now. "You wait just a minute!" He shouted as the guards approached cautiously, weary of the towering wolf that growled at them. Jarimy signaled for him to calm. There were hands on him, pulling him back. He turned to the guard… Who wasn't a guard… But someone else Jarimy knew. Rommath stood behind him, hands on Jarimy's shoulders. "I'll take them." He said.

He pulled JArimy and Valoreth aside, dragging them down the ramp and out of the Sanctum. "You may go." He said to Valoreth and shooed him away, but held Jarimy's arm tightly. "I heard everything, boy." He said after a moment. "And I think that those two are being quite dim sighted. I wouldn't take it all personally though, you have realize just how absurd your stories sound to them. They don't believe it, or if they do at all, they don't want to. To them, this is just added annoyance, there's quite a bit of stress on our people."

He turned his gaze on the younger elf and pulled him away again. He lead him to a small corner between two buildings, hidden from sight. He stared at him deeply, talking Jarimy's features in. "I never thought I'd ever see the son of Kael'Thas Sunstrider." He whispered excitedly. "Yet here you are, and a spitting image of his majesty."

"And I've proof!" Jariny said, talking his quiver and digging around carefully, retrieving the journal from beneath the arrows. He handed it to Rommath. The mage looked at in awe as he cautiously opened it up and read the lines.

"His signature is here on this page." He said. "There's absolutely no possibility of this ever having been forged, I can feel the Prince's magic lines running through it, it's most definitely his." Rommath bowed carefully before Jarimy. The young elf's cheeks reddened. "There's no need for that." He said, his voice barely a whisper.

Rommath rose. "It's an honor." He said. "And it most certainly was needed for me to bow."

"Listen." Rommath said. "I will try to reason with the Regent Lord about you having a place and restoring the line as a recognized heir to the throne of Quel'Thalas. But I cannot guarantee your place, even if I present this very journal to them."

"Can't you tell my father? Can't you go to him and tell him I'm alive? You and he were close, I remember it from my childhood. You came back to tell us of the promise land, you're his herald, can't you at least tell him I'm here?"

Rommath pursed his lips. "I'm sorry. But I cannot. He ordered me to come here, and not to come back unless ordered. I'm to stay here in Quel'thalas, if I was to defy him, it could mean my death. I cannot go back. Nor can I even send a letter."

Jarimy suddenly found himself on the verge of tears. "Then I must find a way to get to him. I simply must, no matter the cost."

"No!" Rommath shouted alarmed. He took a deep breath. "My apologies." he said. "But I cannot let you do that. Outland is an extremely dangerous place, if you were to die, and Kael'Thas was ever to know that I let you go there, two lives would be lost. Yours, and mine. I don't mean this as an insult, but you are not at all prepared for what's out there, let alone the dangers in this world. The entire southern half of Quel'Thalas is infested with scourge, as is most of Lordaeron. Not to mention the trolls, the alliance, and the syndicate rogues and such that come after that. Plus the dragons, and the demons, and the dark portal."

"But-" Jarimy began.

"I'm very sorry, but I cannot allow it. You must not go! I beg you!" Rommath was frantic. Jarimy sighed. "Alright," The young elf said through his teeth. "I won't go." Yet. He thought.

Rommath took a deep breath and looked over the young elf before him before giving a relieved smile. "As I said before, I will see what I can do with those two hard headed idiots, but I don't know if anything I say will convince them." Suddenly, the mage's eyes flashed and he tensed a bit. "I must go." He said quickly, beginning to take his leave towards the Spire. "Farewell, my Lord." He said and with a flash of arcane magic, he was suddenly halfway up the ramp leading into the spire.

Frostbite joined Jarimy at his side. He stroked the wolf absently, feeling as forlorn as ever and a bit numb. What was he to do? His own people did not accept him and his father was now in an entirely different world working with a demon to secure the cure to their addiction. As if on cue, he felt a bit of pain bite at him from within. His need for magic was still as strong as ever, and now he remembered why it was that it bothered him the most.

Anger wove its way around within him as he walked down the steps and towards Farstriders Square. There was the thud of an arrow as it hit the center of a target dead on. The sound made him jump, its familiarness was, however, comforting. He watched the rangers and Farstriders as they retrieved their arrows and fired again and felt the urge to join them. Perhaps it would take the stress from his mind and calm him enough to truly think. It had worked in the past.

He returned his father's journal to the bottom of his quiver before notching an arrow, aiming and firing. His accuracy was as perfect as ever and he smirked in satisfaction before firing again. The arrow planted itself into the same spot as the other one. He fired again and a third arrow joined the growing hole in the target's exact center. This time, he focused his aim intensely and shot right in the center of the hole the three previous arrows had made. He focused even more, thinking of nothing but hitting the mark. This time he intended to do a legendary thing that few could accomplish successfully. And he did it, he split the arrow between the first three. He grunted happily and Frostbite nuzzled him knowingly. He went up to retrieve his arrow.

A tingling went down his spine and he turned abruptly to see the training rangers stare at him, whispering among themselves. Jarimy felt his face redden and took the arrows from the target, discarding the splintered one that he'd split. Someone grabbed his shoulder, and Jarimy turned again. A silver haired man with half of his left ear gone was looking at him with a stern yet almost devious and playful gaze. "My boy," He said. "Are you a Farstrider? Your armor does not say so and I do not believe I've seen you before."

JArimy was caught off guard. "I'm not… Why do you ask?" Replying with a question.

The man smiled. "Because I have not seen someone with your level of skill or accuracy since the days of the three Windrunner Sisters." The man put an arm around Jarimy's shoulder and lead him to the edge of the shooting range. "What is your name?" He asked.

"Jarimy… Lightfallon" He said shakily, using his mother's maiden name. "I am from Fairbreeze." He lied.

"Well, Jarimy, we do not have enough like you among the ranks these days I'm afraid, most of our best fell with Quel'Thalas…" His eyes were distant for a moment before snapping back to Jarimy. "It is the reason I must ask…" His voice was serious. "Will you join our ranks?"

Jarimy's eyes widened, as a child he'd always dreamed that if he were not to become a ruler, he'd want to become a Farstrider. He'd trained with them for a short while before the war, never often enough to join, but now… He'd been asked to join by a member themselves! He grinned. "It would be an honor!" He said excitedly.

The man smiled. "My name is Aro'Thelan Skygaze. I am a commander of the younger ranks, and a mentor to them as well. I would be glad to train you, but you seem quite well off. You've already a companion and everything." He motioned to Frostbite who sniffed the man's outstretched hand.

"It's good to meet you, Commander Skygaze." JArimy said with the bow of his head.

Aro'Thelan nodded back. "Now, I hate to rush things along, but you are an experienced, though quite young if you ask me, and able bodied hunter and we've no time to waste. The reclaiming effort in the south is struggling to even maintain the small foothold we have in the Ghostlands. Jarimy, you are needed there."

Jarimy nodded and thought it all through. The Ghostlands, the heart of the Scourge in Quel'Thalas. Perfect, this was his chance to once again fight for his people, whether they accepted him or not. This was his chance to deal justice to the scourge and that Traitor Dar'Khan Drathir… Yes, this is what he could do now, he could destroy the Scourge, bring back light to his beloved QUel'Thalas… Avenge his mother even. Yes, he would fight the scourge to the bitter end, even if it meant his life at the end of it all, he would. Or damn him.

JArimy bowed again. "Yes, Commander, of course. I will be glad to offer my service in destroying the Scourge and reclaiming Quel'Thalas."

"Come to me in the morning tomorrow." Aro'Thelan said.


End file.
